


Set the Fire to the Third Bar

by runicmagitek



Category: Final Fantasy VI
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Falling In Love Again, Guilt, Implied Sexual Content, Lost Love, Memories, Past Relationship(s), Post-Canon, Second Chances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 09:43:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15021911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runicmagitek/pseuds/runicmagitek
Summary: The battle for balance is over, but the world is still in ruin. In her attempts to rebuild Vector into something better, Celes comes across long forgotten memories of the woman she loved—even the woman herself.





	Set the Fire to the Third Bar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [deadcellredux](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadcellredux/gifts).



> for the prompt: _offer me - about one character giving another a gift_

Fractured sunlight pierced broken windows. Moss and thin vines crawled up the walls and nestled into the cracks in the stone. A thick layer of books covered the floor, pages torn and singed. What remained of the roof was shambles at best, yet it was a miracle the entire structure hadn’t collapsed into dust and ash. There was still hope in that chaotic mess, just like the rest of Vector.

Most civilians fled Vector after the Esper invasion and rightfully so. Poverty reigned supreme in Albrook, even after Kefka’s fall. The ruined city crumbled once more under the madman’s Light of Judgment, but not everything disintegrated. Sparse resources hid within forgotten homes. They could strip metal and wood, re-purpose them for future buildings. A new society could grow from the destruction. All they had to do was try. Or at least Celes did.

The thought of inaction pained her. Others had homes to return to, while the rest opted to wander the unknown landscapes forged from chaos. Maybe she could forget and abandon her previous life and deeds—and failures—in favor of a fresh start. The guilt of ignoring her past weighed heavy upon her soul; Celes feared it would fester within until she made amends.

Thus she returned to the only home she ever knew and initiated a chance to rebuild.

Most spat at her feet upon her return. The rest helped in her vision. Perhaps they also loathed her despite her charity, but gaining the public’s favor was never her aim; this was as much cleansing her soul as it was for the fallen city.

In less than a month, she and the volunteers stripped ten buildings. While everyone discussed what to use the resources for, Celes wandered the desolate landscape of Vector. In search of a new project, or so she convinced herself. What she found instead were phantoms of memories she forced herself to forget.

She retreated to one of two places throughout her earlier days in the military: Cid’s lavish garden and the library. Whether killing time in between drills or finding solitude amidst frustrated tears, Celes was at peace in the quiet space. She lost track of the number of books she read over the years: the fantastical epics of knights and monsters, the historical documents detailing the War of the Magi, the thrillers of unsolved mysteries and superstitions, and the whimsical folklore parading as cautionary tales for children.

All that survived were nostalgia and ruin.

Maybe not absolute ruin. Celes tip-toed across the expanse of books, picking up the ones with legible covers. Mold and mildew greeted her nostrils as she flipped through the pages. The ink bled into incomprehensible splotches across the aged parchment. 

 _Perhaps this is a waste of time, after all,_ Celes mused, yet another book slipping from her grip.

The thought faded when a patch of blue caught her eye. She unearthed the perfect bound book. The sun had yet to fade the cover, binding, or pages, thanks to the heap of books it nestled beneath. Dust lined the outer shell of the book, though when Celes cracked it open, she marveled at the legible text.

She hadn’t read the story since her youth. As a child, she begged Cid to read the tale of the woman who abandoned her royalty to save her village from a nearby threat. Celes found refuge in the book countless times, slipping into the library after-hours to read by moonlight in the nook of a window. Sometimes the comfort of that story—the one she longed to be her own—lulled her to sleep.

She remembered inviting Terra with her one night to read the book to her.

Celes hated the girl who was born with magic, already a step above herself, but that childish logic melted away upon realizing Terra was no different from her. Jealousy morphed into intrigue and Celes found kindred spirit instead of a rival. They clung to one another and supported each other when the rest of the world feared them.

“ _Maybe one day_ ,” Terra had said when they were barely teenagers, “ _we can run away and fight our own monsters, find our own path_.”

Celes smiled and hummed. “ _That would be nice_.”

Terra clutched her hand. “ _As long as we_ _’re together, anything ’s possible, right? I got your back_.”

“ _And I got yours._ ”

The Empire marred their innocence and thrust them into maturity before they stepped properly into adulthood. The laughter disappeared, yet they continued to cling to one another.

“ _I don_ _’t know what’s going to happen_ ,” Terra murmured into Celes’ neck, her voice stripped of the usual carefree fire.

Celes squeezed tighter. “ _Whatever it is, I won_ _’t let anything happen to you_.”

Terra lolled her head back to meet Celes’ cold, yet compassionate stare. “ _I won_ _’t let anything happen to you_.”

Their lips met for the first time, after months of silent tension—a reminder they were still alive. _She would never see me in such a light,_ Celes convinced herself. But Terra moved into her not only as a friend, but also a lover.

Celes melted for Terra. She tasted the magic upon her lips, which dared to consume Celes like a wildfire. Fingertips danced over plush curves. They smothered each other, desperate for touch more so than air. Every anxiety and frustration faded until all that remained was Terra—lovely, decadent Terra.

That sweet, fleeting intimacy burned out as quickly as it sparked to life. One day, they shared one another. The next, Terra was gone.

The downward spiral of events flashed through Celes’ head until she slammed the book into the wall. The collision echoed, stirring birds perched within the rafters. The Empire not only stole Terra from her, but also banished her memories. Everything. Not a trace resurfaced.

And when Terra questioned her in Narshe as to whether or not she ever loved before, Celes longed to scream.

A knife lodged into her chest every moment she encountered Terra and was met with that blank stare. There was a sliver of hope that maybe, by sheer dumb luck, Terra’s memories would return upon defeating Kefka. Perhaps they were locked away with the rest of the magic in the world. It never happened. Terra said her goodbyes and returned to Mobliz, her new home, with a smile.

 _She_ _’s happy now,_ Celes told herself, dropping to her knees and tugging her hair. _That_ _’s all that matters. Stop being selfish. You can’t change the past, but the future is yours to carve out._

The tears distracted her from the footsteps shuffling towards her. A light hand fell onto her shoulder. Celes hissed and whipped around, rune blade unsheathed and tight in her fist. She loosened and dropped it upon facing the figure before her.

Terra clutched her hands together to her chest. Wild curls of ash blonde hair marked with a green hue framed her face and cascaded past her shoulders. Those eyes... the ones Celes lost herself in for hours... those very eyes gazed upon Celes with a sense of wonder and worry.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Terra said, “I—”

“What are you doing here?!” Celes snapped, despite her best efforts.

Terra didn’t flinch. She never had. “I came to see you.”

Celes held her breath. “Shouldn’t you be in Mobliz?”

She shrugged. “I can be wherever I want now, right?” Terra inched towards Celes. “I wanted to help Katarin, but she insisted that I should do what makes me happy, not what I feel I should be doing. And I kept thinking... this used to be our home.” She spun around and gestured to the fallen architecture around them. “I might not recall any of this, as much as I try, but I want to help. I... we already failed the Espers. I can’t go back and fix what was taken away from them, but I can make sure Vector learns from those mistakes and become better because of it. And you.” Her intense stare locked with Celes’. “You know this place better than all of us. You... probably know me better than I know myself. Maybe something will click if I help out here. Or maybe... I don’t know. Maybe I can keep you company, if nothing else.”

Blood pulsed through Celes’ frozen body as a dull ring chimed in her ears. Part of her deemed this to be an illusion, but she knew too well magic ceased to exist in this world. Terra stood before her, alive and well. Her gut reaction urged her to lash out, for a million, cruel reasons, but how could she ever lay a finger on the one she handed her broken heart to a lifetime ago?

The reminder of what they once had stilled Celes’ rage. It softened her, brought her closer to Terra until she drew the other woman into her arms.

Terra gasped, the sound as subtle as the motion of their bodies meeting. Fingers curled into Terra’s form. Celes buried her tear-stained face in her neck.

“I’m sorry,” Celes whispered.

“For... what?”

“For everything.”

Gentle arms hugged Celes in return. “The whole world could love you and you’d still beat yourself up.”

Celes scoffed. “I wish I could forget, just as you have.”

“Why?”

“Maybe then I could find peace with myself without the reminders of the horrors which once transpired.”

“I envy you, though.”

Reining her head back, Celes met Terra’s melancholy expression.

“I wish... I wish I knew who I was before all of this. It pains me to know that was robbed from me. I feel so useless being oblivious to the pain others have suffered. I don’t want to be numb to the world. I want to _feel_ and experience all life has to give, the good and the bad.” Her lips quirked up. “More so the good moments, but I don’t want to be a passive doll ever again. But... I don’t wish to be a burden to you if—”

“Stop it.”

She shook Terra until the words ceased to flow. Their foreheads met. Tears no longer trickled out of Celes’ eyes; they fell like relentless rain.

“You were _never_ a burden to me. Not then, not now. We made a promise to one another years ago—that we’d always have each other’s backs. I failed you. I couldn’t save you from whatever torture the Empire submitted you to. I wish I could restore your memories... maybe then... maybe you would remember what we once had.”

Silence hung between them. Celes struggled to still her trembling form. In time, she found the calm within her storm when Terra held Celes’ face in her soft palms.

“Perhaps we can start over, you and I.” Terra flicked away what tears she could reach with her thumbs. “Rebuild ourselves while we rebuild Vector. I don’t know what the future holds, but… no, it’s silly.”

“Humor me, then.”

Terra averted her gaze, though it was brief. “Wherever our paths lead us, I feel we should do so together. It just… feels right. I can’t explain it. I know you’ve been distant and cold in the past, but… I want to try, Celes. I want to know what it is I lost.”

Fresh tears pooled in Celes’ eyes, though a smile crept onto her face. She lifted her lips and found a home between Terra’s brows.

“I’ll never let anyone hurt you again,” Celes murmured into her.

Terra flashed a smile. “I’ll never let anyone harm you, either.”

Celes savored the warmth of Terra’s skin. Their embrace never loosened. The memories might have faded and vanished, but they could create new ones to cherish together. They could learn to fall in love all over again, or maybe not. The outcome didn’t matter; having Terra by her side again was the greatest gift of all.


End file.
